Wednesday, May 30th, 2007

This morning we had our inspection. It went very, very well. The inspector only found a few things, and they are all pretty easy to fix. She also really loved Back Seat Girl's room. What girl wouldn't? I think her room is my favorite in this house. I spent a lot of time in it wondering what it would be like to have a baby, and after she arrived I spent a lot of time in it nursing and rocking and crying while I packed away tiny baby girl clothes and realizing I can't make time stand still.

BSG and I spent a lot of time outside this morning,and when Back Seat Boy woke up from his nap he joined us. It was the first time he spent a significant amount of time hanging out in the yard and not in the stroller or Bjorn at a park. He did a lot of leaning forward trying very, very hard to touch the grass that seemed to be just out of his reach. Once he got a piece he very predictably put it in his mouth. Here he is, enjoying the breeze through his comb-over.

Here is BSG "smiling" for the camera, and BSB wondering what the heck she is doing. He spends a lot of time wondering what the heck she is doing. We all do.

Did you every wonder-- 'what is the last thing you see before you get your nose eaten off by a baby?' It's this:

When BSG saw me take a close-up of BSB, she requested one, also. She is a true Diva.

The TiVo Generation

The setting: I am in the kitchen, Back Seat Boy is napping in his room, Back Seat Girl is in the living room watching an hour long Dora special (God bless Nickelodeon for throwing an hour long one in there on a work day).

Back Seat Girl: Mommy! What happened? Come in here! Mommy!!

Me (running into the living room): What? What's wrong?

BSG: Where's Dora? Turn Dora back on!

Me: Honey, it's just a commercial. Dora will be back on in a few minutes.

I return to the kitchen and a few seconds later hear BSG reassure Pork Roll "Don't worry, Dora will come back on in a few minutes".

Alison Ran?

Welcome to Richfield. It was a beautiful weekend and Shotgun and I did some work on the house we are intending to sell. One of my tasks for the weekend was to clean the massive amount of Maple tree pollen out of the gutters. So I broke out the hose and went to work. Ever wonder what happen when a couple hundred ants build a nest in a hose and then you turn it on when a nozzle is attached? Well I found out and let me tell you, no water comes out. It seems that the path of least resistance is blocked by ant carcasses.

After doing the real work, back seat girl came out to “help”. There is a small hole in one of out hoses and in true Richfield fashion; this little lemon was made into lemonade by back seat girl and out neighbor. Here is some of the video from the afternoon. In one you can see me ask the neighbor girl if her parents are ok with her running threw the hose. Well, I pretty much assumed that they must be ok because surly someone saw their daughter/cousin/niece/sister/ come over to play. Back seat boy makes a few cameos as well.










A couple of side notes:
The entire time I was cleaning out the gutters one of out neighbors in the apartments behind us was cleaning out his car blasting light rick favorites from yesterday and today. I was serenaded with such classic as-

Put your head on my shoulder
Pretty woman
Sounds of silence (how ironic)
Some Billy Joel Song
And numerous other hits at a volume able to be clearly heard from half a block away.

Also, Shotgun just watched West Side Story for the first time tonight. She was shocked when I knew most of the songs by heart. Thanks, Kate.

Announcement

I am pleased to announce that Stefan and Jenny Debbert have a new baby boy!! Owen was born this morning at 6:30. Three weeks early, but who's counting? He weighed 6 lbs, 2 oz, and apparently has blonde hair. Don't know the length, but I may go and see them this afternoon so maybe I'll have a picture to post later.

Congratulations!!

A Warning

I feel it is my duty to deliver this public service to all of you. I was just looking myself up on Switchboard.com (it's better not to ask why), and it has my age as 31. 31!! Now, listen, I don't think 31 is old, it's just that I am not 31. I'm not even 30. Apparently, the internet is full of WILDLY inaccurate information. That's right--bold, italicized, all caps wildly. What's next? Everything on Wikepedia is made up?

I just thought you should all know that the internet is full of lies and you shouldn't believe ANYTHING you read. Unless, of course, it's on this website. Everything here is completely true.

Six months of Back Seat Boy

This weekend you turned six months old. I can hardly believe where the time has gone. How did you get to be so big? I think you were a tiny baby for about .5 seconds.

Now you are this moon-faced adorable morsel I could just squeeze until you pop. I won’t though. You are always ready to smile. You will smile at anything. If I just glance in your direction I get the big, wide-eyed, toothless grin. Your Grandma calls you a “ray of sunshine”, and I would have to agree with her.

You have a great giggle. It’s impossible not to smile when I hear you start to laugh. The person who can get you to laugh the easiest is your big sister. You watch her intently, and if she decides to grace you with some eye contact, you smile gleefully. If she goes so far as to actually talk to you or do something silly, you can’t help but laugh with delight.

You’re starting to develop a bit of a schedule, much to my delight. I’ve decided to take your lead on this since that’s what I let your sister do and she figured out a pretty nice daily schedule for herself. I usually end up laying you down by 8. You’ve gotten into the bad habit of waking up between 5:45 and 6, but usually I can get you to go back to sleep for a little while. The problem is that I can’t get back to sleep.

When you do wake up for the morning you couldn’t be happier. You are usually content to lie in your crib for a while and wrestle and talk with your blanket bear. When I go in to greet you, you act like you are surprised that yes, we are still here and did not move out in the middle of the night while you were sleeping. You kick and grunt and smile, and just when you think it couldn’t get any better, I change your diaper. You LOVE getting your diaper changed. The only thing that is better than getting your diaper changed is eating, especially that cereal stuff we’ve started giving you. You open your little mouth like a bird when you see the spoon, and have since the second time you’ve ever tried it. It is pretty funny. You even get excited when you see me get out the milk and the bowl.

You’re to the age where you will try to grab anything, ANYTHING within your reach, or at least what you perceive to be within your reach. It’s hard to eat now with you on my lap, because you are constantly grabbing at my plate, at the fork going into my mouth, at my face, at my drink, etc. Everything that ends up in your hand goes into your mouth, of course. I have forgotten how much babies love to put everything into their mouths.

Watching you has made me remember things about your sister being a baby that I had forgotten. For instance, you have developed a fascination with the tags on your toys. Your favorite part of any toy is the tag. I remember now that your sister was the same way. You finger the tag, or stick it in your mouth, or hold it up really close to your face and look at it with awe and wonder. “Behold, it is the almighty tag. There is a wealth of information on this thing. It has washing instructions on it. It tells you where it is made. It tells you what company made it. Plus, it’s kind of shiny and slippery and fits perfectly into my mouth.” At least that is what I imagine is going through that little brain of yours.


The last six months have flown by, and I know the next six months will, as well. Before I know it you will be trying to walk and talk and the precious little baby you are now will only be a memory. I am tenaciously holding on to these innocent moments before you are treating me like an indentured servant as other people in this house are known to do. You look at me now after I feed you or change your diaper or get you after you’ve woken up from a nap with such gratitude, like these things aren’t expected of me--like I’m the greatest person in the world for keeping you alive for this long. I think you’re saying “Wow. Thanks Mom. I really was hungry/tired/messy, and you took care of it. I love you”.

Happy Birthday, Little Man. I love you, too.

P.S. You scream like a girl when you're excited, but I think it makes me love you a little more. You even make screaming like a girl cute.

Why?

I heard well before I ever thought about having my own children the stories of toddlers who constantly ask 'why?'. You answer one 'why', and it's met with another 'why', and another, and so on. I thought to myself "Self, surely this is an exaggeration". I had never witnessed first-hand any small child do this. I thought it was one of those old stories that got exaggerated over time. Yea, maybe a few kids do this, but not to the point where there can't possibly be anymore answers to the "whys?".

Enter Back Seat Girl. She loves to prove her mother wrong, and she has done it once again. In the last two weeks she started asking 'why?' to everything, everything she possibly can. Even when it doesn't make sense to ask 'why?', even when she's asking about how she feels or why she is doing something, she asks us "why?".

Last weekend I had to work so Driver, being the good dad he is, loaded the kids into the stroller and took them to the park. They came to a 4-way stop at the same time as another car. Driver waved his hand and told the driver of the car to go ahead. Back Seat Girl saw this as an opportunity to stump her stupid parents yet again. This time, however, Driver had an answer.

BSG: What did you say to that lady?
Driver: I told her she can go.
BSG: Why?
Driver: So we wouldn't go at the same time.
BSG: Why?
Driver: Because then we would hit eachother.
BSG: Why?
Driver: Because then we would get hurt.
BSG: Why?
Driver: Because according to the laws of physics two objects can't occupy the same space at the same time.

That was one of the shorter exchanges. They can go on forever, to the point where you really can't think of any more answers. The other night she asked me why she couldn't go to heaven right now. (The original question was "Who is Jesus?") We always try to distill them down to phsyics. I've found myself saying on more than one occasion to my two and a half year old "physics, Back Seat Girl, it's all around us".

I feel myself getting less intelligent by the day.

NWA Tour

This last Thursday for class we got to tour Northwest Airlines maintenance facility at the Minneapolis Airport. The tour was fascinating. We were able to tour the hangars and see the planes that are in there for maintenance. We went into the cockpits, cargo bays and everything. There was one plane that had an interesting story. It was in an accident on the tarmac and is now being used for training. I saw this picture on the internet the afternoon before the tour. Imagine my surprise when I saw it all busted up.

An Apology

Dear Mommy and Daddy's friends who were here Saturday night--

I am sorry I screamed my head off for what seemed like a very long time according to mom (I didn't think it was that bad, but whatever). I guess I was getting used to being an only child there for a while with my sister gone. Every time I made a noise or seemed the least bit unhappy all day I got picked up, or a big head would appear in my vision to smile and talk to me.

Then, suddenly, I woke up at this place where there were other big people that looked like Mommy and Daddy and they were all talking and NO ONE was looking at me. I had to sit in my carseat and amuse myself with these plastic chains which usually do the job, but I was kinda' mad. I mean, I had Mommy and Daddy to myself ALL DAY. Now suddenly I was stuck in a corner and all I could see was Mommy and Daddy's backs.

So, I did what I needed to do. I made some noise, and I had Mommy and Daddy to myself all over again. For a little while, at least. Then all the big people showed up again, and then I was outside, and it was getting late, and there was a little person that looked kind of like my sister but not really running around, and I got a little overwhelmed. Suddenly Mommy was trying to put me to bed, but I just couldn't calm down. Once again, I had to resort to the one thing I know that gets me attention EVERY time.

I don't know what happened next, but I must have accidentally fallen asleep, because a few hours later I woke up in my crib with my animals. A few hours after that my sister was back, and then I remembered that it's not ALWAYS about me, so I decided to not scream before bed that night, because it seems to me that Mommy and Daddy are always there when I really need them.

Yours Truly,
Back Seat Boy

Happy 100k Little Green Beetle

The last snow

A few weeks ago we were doing this:

And only wearing onesies:

But today we were doing this:

and wearing snowsuits:

Already she thinks I'm out of style

This morning Back Seat Girl and I were in Back Seat Boy's room to get him up for the morning. Back Seat Girl was talking about her hair. She was noticing that her hair is long, but mine is not.

BSG: Don't worry, momma, I help your hair grow.

Me: You will?

BSG: Yea, it looks funny like that.

A note to children's clothing manufacturers

Dear sirs,
Please do not tell me that I should be washing baby clothes in the gentle cycle. If you are making such flimsy clothing that it can not withstand the rigors of a normal cycle, perhaps you should just be honest and call it "disposable". I am not going to wash my baby's clothes in a separate gentle cycle. He is going to most assuredly poop and/or spit up on them every. time. he. wears. them. That adds up to a lot of laundry, and even more if I separated his laundry into things that can go in the normal cycle versus things that have to go in the gentle cycle.

While we're on the subject, I also have a toddler. While she is past the point of pooping and spitting up on her clothing, she does a fair amount of painting, splashing in mud puddles, spilling food, and general crawling around in a less than spic and span house. She usually can't wear an outfit much more than once or twice before it ends up in the wash, either. Unless this particular item of clothing is a dress, I'm not going to put it in the gently cycle. Don't even bother writing washing instructions on the tag that include the word "gentle". Why don't you just write "not meant to be worn more that 5 times".

Thank you for your time and attention to this matter.

Your's truly,
An Annoyed Consumer

Oh yea, she's definitely ours

Tonight after supper we were all in the living room watching the Twin's regular season opener. In honor of this special occasion Driver and I were enjoying a nice, cold Summit. Back Seat Boy was laying on the floor wrestling with his little stuffed giraffe (it's always hard to tell who's winning), and Back Seat Girl was sitting on Driver's lap. The cat was sitting inbetween Driver and I and started sniffing my beer.

BSG: No, kitty, that momma's beer.
She proceeds to slide down Driver's lap and onto the floor.
BSG: Can I have a sip of your beer?
Me: No, beer is only for Mommy's and Daddy's, remember?
BSG: No, beer is for Alisons!!
Me: No, beer is not for Alisons.
BSG: I want to hold it.
Me: No, you can't hold it. I tell you what, when you turn 21 you can have a beer.
BSG: Twentyone?
Me: Yep, 21.
BSG: OK, I going to turn 21. (goes to the middle of the living room and begins turning in
circles. You should all know that this is also how she 'turns' into a princess and
a pirate, although turning into a pirate also requires a hat.)
BSG: (comes back over to the couch with a twinkle in her eye and a mischievous grin on her
face) "OK, I 21 now."
Me: No, you're not 21. You're 2. Remember, you're going to turn 3 in July.
BSG: I try again.

Back to the middle of the living room for more spinning in circles.

BSG: OK, now I 21.

Some time passes. Now BSG is on my lap and she's holding Pork Roll.

BSG: How old is Pork Roll?
Me: He's 2, just like you.
BSG: No, Puppy 2.
Me: He's 2?
BSG: Puppy is a girl. Pork Roll is a boy. Pork Roll is a big boy. He 25. He can have a sip of
your beer.
Me: What the heck.

I held my almost empty beer bottle up to Pork Roll's mouth and made fake drinking noises.

Morning

Back Seat Girl woke up singing this morning. Driver was still home so he went in to get her.

Driver: That was a nice song. What was it about?
BSG: It a song about not throwing up.
Driver: (??!?!?) Oh, it's very pretty. Can you sing it for me?
BSG: No, it a song just for me.


We were thinking of dropping our Station wagon themed names. They are just starting to sound corny to me, but maybe it's just me. I was thinking of either just going ahead and using our real names, or doing the O-Mac, A-mac thing. We already call Back Seat Boy O or O-Mac a lot of the time now. I guess we're just too lazy to have two kids with 3 syllable names or something. What do you, our 2-3 faithful readers, think? Any preferences on what we call ourselves?

How did we get here?

It didn't seem that long ago that Driver and I were care-free college students. Now we're adults with two kids, a mortgage, and a station wagon. This weekend I realized that we've really embraced our lot in life.

This afternoon we all went to the Timberwolves game. We were the breeders of the skyway. Driver was holding the diaper bag and Back Seat Girl's hand, and I was carrying Back Seat Boy in the Bjorn.

Saturday night we had the front door open and we heard a car speed down the street. Driver and I had a whole conversation about how it would be great if we could rig up some spike strips that would go up on our street when cars were going over 35 mph. My parents were visiting and when my dad asked more about it, Driver went on and on about all of the instances he's seen people speed down our street.

Here is the most convincing evidence, however. Driver and I went out and bought this on Saturday morning (except in red):

It's the answer to most of our double stroller prayers. The front has an attachment so we can put Back Seat Boy's car seat in it. The back has a seat for Back Seat Girl to sit in, or a place for her to stand and hang on. It's not huge and plastic, it's nice and compact and has a metal frame so it won't break after a couple of uses which seems to happen to plastic things we own.

Driver and I went on and on about how great it was all weekend. We actually had to take turns pushing it home from the park. We talked so much about how much we loved it that my parents started making snide comments about how pathetic we were.

The worse part? I don't care. I am in love with that stroller. It's my ticket to freedom. I can actually get out of the house with both kids to some place other than the grocery store or Target. No more pushing a stroller while wearing a growing baby boy in the Bjorn (that is one he*# of a work out). I am so psyched about that stoller.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to go downstairs and look at it lovingly some more.

Better late than never

I was looking for this picture for Boy Wonder's birthday and couldn't find it. Well, I found it. Insert clever "Schutter Boy joke here"

My Boys

Boy Wonder

Happy Birthday, Boy Wonder!!

Unfortunately, this is the most recent picture I have of you on my Picasa account. Back Seat Girl looks to be around 1, so I'm thinking you're 5-6 months old. I'm pretty sure you couldn't crawl yet. This is one of the days I got to watch you because your regular daycare was closed. We had fun, as always!!

We've loved watching you grow up over the past 2 years. (2 years! I can hardly believe it.) You are growing into a cute, smart, funny, and fun to be around little boy. We look forward to making many more wonderful memories with you and your parents. Have a wonderful day!!

Beware: Dirty post ahead

Yesterday I gave Back Seat Boy a bath. He's had a problem with cradle cap pretty much since the day he was born, and I've managed to get rid of most of it with some stuff I bought at Target. However, for some weird reason, after I washed his hair yesterday he had some major dandruff problem. I couldn't let him go out in public like that and we had church last night, so I was trying to think of a way to wash his hair again without having to give him another bath. I didn't want to give him another bath for two reasons: 1--I'm lazy. 2--He has very dry skin already, and another bath would just dry him out more.

Later in the day, Back Seat Girl went down for her nap. Back Seat Boy fell asleep in his car seat while I was reading her stories. He woke up shortly after I laid her down, but was happy to play with his car seat toys, so I left him in there while I did boring house-wifey things. I bent down to talk to him and smile at him and soak up how frickin' adorable he is when he got that look of concentration on his face all babies do when they are about to move their bowels. It was a silent one, and everyone knows they are the worst. The loud ones are all go and no show, but those silent ones are just, well, they make the diapers earn their keep.

After finishing up what I was doing, I picked him up to change his diaper. I was expecting some poop-up-the-back action, but I was not prepared for what I had to deal with. There was poop all the way up his back and pooled in his onesie. Pooled, people. It was disgusting, and I am not easily disgusted. At first I thought I could just take care of it with baby wipes, but after about 8 of them, I realized it was just no use. I was cleaning poop out of his armpits, for crying out loud. Also, let's remember he just turned 4 months old, so I had to prop him up to a sitting position with one hand and try to wipe with the other. Getting his onesie off without doing further damage was impossible, too. I probably should've taken him back to the Dr. to get him weighed again. Obviously he's been holding in some, um, stuff, and his weight on Monday could have been falsely elevated.

Suffice it to say, he got another bath, so his hair was no longer a problem. The best part is that he could've cared less what I was doing. He just took it all in stride, cooing and smiling at me, completely ignoring the fact that he was basically totally covered in poop.

I just realized this blog is really just about feces. Maybe we should rename it "Poop, a story of Bowel Movements", because really, humans are just poop factories.

Florida!

This is for the Dads. It's hard to tell on this picture, but we parked our car (that's our red Impala) on the most beautiful new grass I've ever seen when we went to the Twins game. I know my dad could feel us drive on it even from that far away.

Yea, you're jealous.

Here are the weird mullet seagulls we shared the beach with. They even sounded a bit different.

That is me reading in the "cabana" (that's what they called them when we rented it) on the right,and our hotel is in the background.

Before the snow...

I have been a bad blogger lately, I know. So, to catch up I will put up some pictures with a few words explaining them until I have time to write more. Here is a picture I took of a piece of chicken on our deck a couple of weeks ago. As you may have guessed, we haven't eaten out on our deck for quite a while, and I'm pretty sure the last time we did we weren't eating fried chicken. Frickin' squirrels.




These next two pictures were taken on Ash Wednesday. I believe it was in the 40s and Back Seat Girl begged to go outside. This was the most water she could find to play in.




Here is Back Seat Boy that same day. What a beautiful baby!! I took him to the Dr. yesterday for his 4 month check up. Here are his stats:
16 lbs, 7 oz (80%)
25 inches (50%)
Can't remember exact measurement for head circumference and I'm too lazy to go and look, but it was 60th percentile.

Baby, it's cold outside!

I had to take a picture of this because I was afraid no one would believe me. That is Back Seat Girl, eating her lunch yesterday. In her hand is a leaf of some kind of purple lettuce. She wanted to try it after watching me make myself a salad. It got her stamp of approval: "I love this black salad!"



This morning, I woke up to find this window and this blanket, which had been sitting on top of the couch up against the window, frozen together. Do you think we might need new windows? Sounds like a problem for any potential new owners to me!

Obviously it is cold here and will be all weekend. Bitterly cold. Too cold to take out small children unless it is absolutely necessary (say, like a Super Bowl party or something like that). We have plans to stay in our house with plenty of food and movies and a space heater (which was the reason I blew a fuse in the kitchen this morning). Driver is making a stop at the grocery store on his way home so we have supplies and I can cook up a storm all weekend. Mainly because the oven helps heat up the house. I think older houses have "charm" and "character".

What butts do.

I must love potty humor, but whatever. I think everyone secretly does and some people are just too uptight to admit it.

This afternoon Back Seat Girl was sitting on the couch watching Clifford. I wasn't paying too much attention because I've seen every episode eleventy million times. All of a sudden Back Seat Girl exclaims "Look at Emily Elizabeth!! She has a butt!!"

Of course I had to start a conversation about it.

Me: Emily Elizabeth has a butt?
BSG: Yea.
Me: I think pretty much everyone has a butt.
BSG: Yea, sometimes they poop.

Back Seat Boy

I had a request for pictures of both of the children, and since the last post was all about Back Seat Girl, here are some pictures of Back Seat Boy. Doesn't he look like he wants to laugh? He is getting so close!


I know this is blurry, but I liked the look on his face, and almost all of the pictures are blurry because he kept sliding down the boppy.








Just ignore my hand and focus on the adorable baby!

A true Minnesota family

So far Back Seat Girl has proven that she is a true Minnesota girl. She loves camping, riding in the baby backpack, riding in the burley, canoeing, going for rides in Pap's boat, and even pretend fishing (hey, she doesn't know that holding a bobber with fishing line tied to it and nothing else isn't actually fishing). This past weekend, she has proven she even likes winter outdoor pursuits.

We went to Mam and Pap's condo on Lake Mille Lacs where she enjoyed walking on the frozen lake

Looking at Daddy through an ice heave,

Snowmobiling with mom, and ice fishing. I don't have any actual pictures of her in the ice house because we didn't bring the camera out there, but she stood there with her pink snow pants on over her sweatshirt holding an actual pole with actual bait on the end looking every bit the professional. She had fun until she got bored and declared "I all done fishing". Also, we found out that big girls DO NOT pee in buckets, they pee in the potty, and there are no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

I am a loser

I received some great presents this Christmas. I got some nice utensils from Williams Sonoma and a Le Creuset dutch oven, which I have not used yet because I feel like it needs something REALLY special to break it in. Of course anyone that has been within one mile of me while I'm carrying my Coach wristlet has seen it, because it is, in a word, perfect. However, one night last week Driver and I used two of my presents and we had fun doing it. Here they are:



No, not the ladybug candle holder. The one on the left there is a food scale. The other is a food sealer. You know, those things that vacuum pack your food so it keeps for pretty much ever? Last week after Back Seat Girl went to bed, we set Back Seat Boy in his bouncy chair in the kitchen so he could witness first hand what incredible geeks his parents are. Not only did we seal food:

(Look, we even celebrated the first bag we did by numbering it.) I actually bought a few pounds of meat, and instead of just eyeballing it and freezing it in approximately 1 lb increments, I actually split it up and weighed it first so I knew each bag had exactly one pound of ground beef in it. And I smiled the whole time. And you know what else? You can reseal stuff so you don't feel like you need to use a whole huge bag of frozen french cut green beans if you don't want to.

Isn't that exciting. Those beans will be as fresh as the day I brought them home when I decide to make them a few months from now...and that makes me happy.

Oh, and in the interest of full disclosure you should also know that I made mini meatloaves the other night, and I know they were exactly a quarter pound each because I weighed them on my food scale before baking them. My loser-ness knows no bounds.

I promise this will be the last post about toots (at least for a while)

Back Seat Girl was sitting on my lap just now while watching Clifford. She let a very loud toot go, and me, being the very mature person I am, began laughing. Since I was laughing, BSG decided it was OK for her to laugh, too.

Me: What did you just do? Did you just toot on my lap?
BSG: Yea, there are toots on your lap now!

Christmas in quotes

The holiday season had us visiting our families. The kids and I were away from home for quite a while, but it was a great opportunity for them to bond with both sets of grandparents and aunt and uncles. It also gave Back Seat Girl more people to talk to. Here are some of the things she said that stand out in my mind.

On Christmas Eve day, Mam, the Godmother, BSG and I (Back Seat Boy came along in the Bjorn) went for a walk around their neighborhood in Iowa. Keep in mind that BSG thinks Mam and Pap’s house is Iowa. It was, for obvious reasons, a slow walk. We had plans to stop by the neighbor’s swingset on the way back. Someone mentioned this to BSG, who had been looking forward to it. She must have been getting tired, though, because after hearing us mention “the park”, she said in a whiny voice “No, I just want to go back to Iowa”.

After she received a tool set from Santa on Christmas morning (we were still at Mam and Pap’s), this conversation took place:

Me: Now you can help Daddy when he fixes the house.
BSG: No, now I can help Daddy when he fixes Iowa.
Then she promptly walked to the front door and began hammering.

We were going out to eat with my parents and brother. My dad was strapping BSG into her car seat when she showed how classy she can be.

BSG: Grampa, listen to me toot!
And then she followed through.

Another time she was sitting at the table eating lunch. She tooted, then announced:

“I tooted in my Dora underwear!!”

I used to think she was taking after me, but maybe she is more like her father then we all think!

Barista

Confidential to the woman working behind the counter at Dunn Brothers:

You seem nice enough, but you are young and, I'm assuming, childless. Here's a little advice for you. When someone enters your fine establishment carrying a baby carrier, a diaper bag and holding a toddler's hand, then orders two drinks, please do not fill the cup full to the brim with hot coffee. I mean, I understand that maybe you just wanted me to get my money's worth, but that cup could not be moved an inch along the counter without spilling out the little mouth hole, much less jostled all the way back out to my car while trying to carry all of the previously mentioned stuff PLUS two hot drinks. Also, don't make me have to ask you for a drink carrier. It seems obvious to me that there is no way on God's green earth I could carry two cups separately. The lady behind me was sighing loudly already at my audacity to bring two children into the coffee shop. Then I had to take up more of her precious time by asking you for a drink carrier and waiting for you to unfold it or fold it or whatever you do (looks like origami to me).

That is my public service to you. The next woman who has just survived grocery shopping with an infant and a two year old while trying to push one of those horrible huge carts with the car thingy on the front and then decides to reward her toddler for good behaviour with a steamer can thank me later.

Two kids under the age of two and a half is nothin'!!

Today I had my 6 week post-partum checkup. I went to see the Dr I had to see when my regular Dr went on maternity leave. Since she's a little new to me, I don't know too much about her. At one of my last appointments before Back Seat Boy was born, she did mention to me that she has twins, but other than that, I have no clue about her personal life.

So, we are doing the regular chatting about contraception, how I'm feeling, how it's going at home, bla, bla, bla. We were having the "it's a real juggling act" talk right before she was going to leave the room (probably because I had to keep telling Back Seat Girl to let the Dr finish talking and to, um, stay up by my head and hold mommy's hand while Back Seat Boy fussed in his car seat so I looked like the harried mom), and I said "Yea, you have twins, don't you?". You know, in that "I know what you're feeling, girl" sort of comraderie. Then she said "I actually have four. The oldest is three." I tried not to let my chin hit the floor. Instead of gently putting my hand on her shoulder and saying "I'm so sorry", I said something like "wow". I can't actually remember exactly what I said, because I couldn't get my head wrapped around 4 children under the age of 3. "Yea", she said, "I have a three year old, 17 month old twins, and a 5 month old."

Should I really be taking contraception advice from this woman?

What would we put on the cards? Merry Christmas, hope your home is as happy as ours!!

You know Christmas card picture taking is not going to go well when it starts out like this, before you've even taken out the camera:



So, you get one calmed down, and the other decides his life is pretty horrible, too:


So, you get him calmed down, and then the first one decides she's not over whatever she was throwing a tantrum about before:



You just decide to scrap the whole thing and try again the next day. Because once the girl decides that whatever you're doing is not OK with her, you can forget talking her into it.
As you are excitedly reviewing the new pictures because they were both in good moods, you realize your children are either a) possessed by the devil, or b) just very, very odd.

 

We're still alive, I promise

I know, I know, no one has posted in a while. We've been a little distracted. This whole having a newborn and toddler thing is not for the weak. Some days I think "wow, I am awesome! I have this whole thing under control" That was today (Oliver has done a lot of sleeping, which makes me nervous for tonight). Other days (yesterday) I think "wow, this sucks. I will never again get ANYTHING done around the house ever again. I will also never be able to make my children happy, because apparently both of their lives are horrible". However, Back Seat Girl and I managed to get the ornaments on the tree yesterday. One of my favorites, my glass green beetle ornament, fell prey to BSG's butter fingers, though. Now she has 3 ornamnets she is allowed to touch. Here is a picture of BSG "fixing" the tree on her ladder:



Here is what Back Seat Boy was doing while we were decorating the tree:
Why yes, he is in the bathroom,why do you ask? He loves being in there with the fan on, and sometimes that is the only way I get enough time to read stories to BSG before her nap, so if he's sleeping in there when I come out, that's where he stays.

Here is an update on how he's doing, in honor of his one month birthday today.

Sometimes I can't believe he's only one month old. I can't remember how easy it must have been to just have Back Seat Girl around. Other times, I can't believe it's been a month already. The time has flown by. Although, when I think about being in the hospital, it feels like it was forever ago.

Back Seat Boy does not like to be set down while he is awake, though he does seem to be getting better about that. I used to walk around the house endlessly trying to calm him down, but now he's OK to hang out in the Baby Bjorn, which helps me out a lot. He also has days where he seems to sleep a lot more than others. His eating schedule is also different then BSG's was. For one thing, he's much faster about nursing. BSG used to take up to an hour, even when she was this old, and then want to start all over again half an hour later. She could go on like that all day. BSB, on the other hand, usually takes about 20 mintutes to half an hour, and actually can go about 2 hours from the start of one feeding to another. However, on the days when he sleeps more he eats more often when he IS awake.

I have him sleeping in his crib at night now. He is good for about 5-6 hours in there overnight. I try to get him down by 11, but some nights he's not laying down until midnight. That is a little late for his mom, but he doesn't seem to care. Depending on what time I get him down, he wakes up anytime between 4 and 5:30, but usually around 5. Then he's up for about an hour or so, and I can get him back to bed, in his crib, for another few hours. Depending on what time he wakes up, I'll either go back to bed for a little bit, take a shower, or start getting breakfast ready for BSG, who will be up momentarily.

He's definitely getting bigger. He's starting to stretch his newborn onesies and the few newborn sleepers I had left over from BSG (that aren't pink). He has a nice double chin and chubby, kissable cheeks. His legs are still frog like and he has no butt, which must be the difference between boys and girls. BSG always had a little junk in her trunk.

BSG does not act out very much at all when it's just me at home all day. Actually, she is acting out less then she was right before BSB was born. Just normal 2 year old things. Right now we're having a regression with potty training. She was doing really, really well, but then one night she couldn't pee, and she really wanted an M&M, so she sat on her potty and cried. Since then it hasn't been good. This morning I thought it was turning around when she volunteered she had to poop on her potty and did it. Then she refused to sit down the rest of the day, and in fact cried every time I brought it up. I did get her to pee in it tonight. We'll see. We're all taking a trip to Target tomorrow for training pants. She didn't seem to care that much about the "Feel N' Learns" (apparently she doesn't care about being wet), so I'm going to try the ones that get cold when you pee in them. She really needs to be trained soon, because I am not having fun with the two in diapers thing. I got to change two disgusting poopy diapers in a row, one from each kid, at church on Sunday and while I was changing BSG's, she seemed huge and much too old to be doing that in a diaper.

So, there is a long, boring post about how we're doing. Hopefully one of us will have something more interesting to write about soon!